


To Make Light Truly Count

by LetsGoBeTheGoodGuys



Series: Sleeping at Last [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dad!Dean, Gen, The Samulet - Freeform, voicemail fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:09:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23078371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetsGoBeTheGoodGuys/pseuds/LetsGoBeTheGoodGuys
Summary: A season 4 voicemail fix-it. That's it. That's the fic.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Jack Kline & Dean Winchester, Jack Kline & Sam Winchester
Series: Sleeping at Last [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645366
Comments: 26
Kudos: 150





	To Make Light Truly Count

Jack had started reading the _Supernatural_ books. Dean had been horrified when he found out. Sam, of course, had been a saint when Jack had found the books online. Sam had insisted that he and Dean both sit down with Jack and have a conversation with him before he started reading.

Dean had sat uncomfortably at the table, arms crossed, as Sam told Jack that he could read the books if he wanted to.

“There’s a lot of history in those books, Jack,” Sam explained, his voice soft like it always was with Jack. “That history goes pretty far back for us and some of it will be heavy. Just promise me that you’ll ask us if you have any questions about anything.”

“Ask Sam,” Dean had clarified. “I’m not gonna tell you that you can’t read ‘em. But I don’t want to hear about it.”

Sam had glared at him, but Dean didn’t change his stance. The idea of the kid reading the books made him really uncomfortable. He didn’t even like to think that far back into his and Sam’s history himself.

Now it had become commonplace to see Jack sitting with his iPad in his lap, completely absorbed in his reading. He wasn’t a quick reader, but he had always seemed to enjoy it. A love for reading was one of many things that Jack seemed to have picked up from Sam.

And if Jack had questions about the books, which he often did, he would go to Sam. Dean would sometimes overhear them talking about it.

_“Yes, Dean is still afraid of flying.”_

_“No, we’ve never met another talking teddy bear.”_

Dean just hoped that Jack was getting close to finishing the books.

* * *

In between hunts, several weeks after Jack had discovered the books, Sam had left the bunker to go for a run. This left Dean and Jack alone, which was not uncommon.

Dean was walking past Jack’s room and he glanced in to see Jack sitting on his bed, head bent over his iPad, clearly reading one of the _Supernatural_ books. Dean was going to keep walking, but there was something about the expression on Jack’s face that made him stop. He stepped into Jack’s room.

“Hey, you alright?” Dean asked.

Jack looked up at Dean and immediately started talking in a hurried tone, his fingers tightly clutching the iPad in his lap. “I know you don’t want to talk about it. But he changed the voicemail, Dean,” he said. His gaze was desperate, scared.

Dean frowned in confusion. “What? What voicemail?”

“Zachariah, I think. He—“

“Zachariah?” Dean interrupted. “That feathery douchebag? Listen, Jack. He did a lot of crap. Did you make it to the part where I stab him in the face? ‘Cause I’ll tell ya, that was satisfying.”

Jack’s expression didn’t change. He shook his head. “No, Dean. You don’t understand. Sam doesn’t know what you said.”

Dean sighed. He really didn’t want to have this conversation. But Jack was clearly shaken and Dean definitely couldn’t leave him like this. He walked the last couple of steps and sat on the bed next to Jack.

“Tell me what’s bothering you,” Dean said gently. “It’s okay.”

“Remember when Sam was with Ruby?” Jack started.

Dean swallowed hard. This was going to be more difficult than he thought. “I remember.”

“You called him. When you were with the angels. You called but he didn’t answer. Do you remember?” Jack was speaking quickly and Dean was struggling to keep up.

“Uh, I’m not sure, kid. I don’t think about back then very often. Things were rough. Everything’s different now.”

“Look at this,” Jack said. He turned the iPad to Dean and pointed at the screen. “This paragraph. This is what you said in the voicemail. Do you remember?”

Dean leaned closer to look at the screen. His eyes weren’t what they used to be and the print was pretty small. He read the paragraph Jack had indicated.

_“Hey. It’s me. Uh… Look, I’ll just get right to it. I’m still pissed and I owe you a serious beat-down. But… I shouldn’t have said what I said, y’know. I’m not dad. We’re brothers. We’re family. And, uh, no matter how bad it gets, that doesn’t change. Sammy, I’m sorry.”_

Dean felt sick. He could remember now. The specifics of the moment were a little vague but the feelings were hitting him again full-force. Dread, uncertainty, emptiness. The cool detachment of the angels in the face of everything that had been tearing him and Sam apart. Dean was struck again with the feeling of loneliness that had almost overwhelmed him in that room. Most of all, he remembered his fight with Sam.

“I remember, kid.” Dean tried to keep his voice from shaking. Jack was worked up enough. He didn’t need to see Dean fall apart after a small reminder of his fractured past. “Why are showing me this?”

“Sam didn’t hear that message, Dean.” Jack looked like he might cry. “I think Zachariah changed it.”

A chill settled in Dean’s bones and a sweat broke across his forehead. “What do you mean?”

“Here.” Jack scrolled a little on his screen and then turned it back to Dean. “This is what Sam heard.”

Dean read.

_“Listen to me, you blood-sucking freak. Dad always said I’d either have to save you, or kill you. Well, I’m giving you fair warning. I’m done trying to save you. You’re a monster, Sam. A vampire. You’re not you anymore. And there’s no going back.”_

Dean looked up at Jack, knowing the horror he was feeling would be written all over his face. Jack shook his head and a tear slipped down his cheek.

Dean was overwhelmed with the need to find Sam. To hold his little brother as tight as he could. To tell him that he was sorry. He would never give up on him. He hadn’t. He wouldn’t. Dean longed to go back and tell that younger version of Sam that he would’ve done anything to save him.

Dean couldn’t do any of that. But his kid was in front of him, brokenhearted. Dean _could_ do something about that. So he took the iPad from Jack’s hands and set it aside. Without hesitation, he leaned forward and pulled Jack against him. Jack’s arms wound around Dean’s ribs and held tight.

“Thank you for showing this to me, Jack,” Dean said. He settled his cheek against Jack’s hair. Jack smelled like Sam’s shampoo. Dean smiled a little in spite of the heaviness in his heart. He had noticed that Jack often had that effect on him. Jack’s smallest habits — the way he always sat cross-legged, the way he asked every question slowly as if each one was heavy and profound, the way he held eye contact for too long — they all brought a soft sort of fondness to Dean that he hadn’t often felt since before Sam had grown taller than him. He had never expressed the emotions Jack drew from him out loud, but when that warmth flooded his heart and he caught Sam smiling at him, it was clear his brother had noticed.

Jack sniffled against Dean’s shoulder and Dean brought a hand up to hold the back of Jack’s head gently. “I’m gonna fix this, okay?”

Jack didn’t answer aloud, but Dean felt him nod his head.

“I know this is really hard to read. But you have a little advantage, right? You know how this story turns out. We get a happy ending.”

Jack pulled out of Dean’s embrace, but stayed close, carefully taking hold of Dean’s amulet with his fingers. Ever since Jack had studied the amulet to draw a picture of it, he had developed a habit of asking Dean if he could hold it when he and Dean were sitting next to each other on movie night. Dean had been reluctant at first, but now he was used to quietly slipping the necklace off so Jack could fiddle with it during their movie. He liked to keep his hands busy and he always gave it back right away, so Dean didn’t mind. He knew Sam didn’t either.

“What are you gonna tell Sam?” Jack asked.

Dean sighed. “I don’t know yet. But he’ll probably be back soon.”

Jack nodded. He released Dean’s necklace, and it thumped back in place over Dean’s heart.

Dean stood from the bed, stopping and placing a hand against Jack’s cheek, “You gonna be alright, kid?”

“Yeah. Thank you, Dean,” Jack replied.

Dean patted Jack’s cheek and then turned to leave the bedroom. He stopped and turned back around in the doorway. “Hey, Jack?” He waited for the boy to look up at him. “You know you’re a part of our happy ending, right?”

Jack smiled brightly in response and that reaction – as his usually were - was immediate and unguarded. Dean felt a jolt somewhere suspiciously near his heart as he took in Jack’s expression. His red, tear-streaked cheeks and messy hair and shining eyes were all at once familiar and new to Dean. So much like the little brother with the curly hair and dimples that Dean had raised but also so unique to the boy in front of him.

Dean returned Jack’s smile, but made sure to turn away before he accidentally showed too much of the emotion he was feeling. He needed to compose himself before Sam came home.

* * *

When Sam returned from his run, Dean had told him that there was something they needed to talk about.

“Can I shower first?” Sam had asked.

“Yeah, you reek. I don’t want to talk to you like this anyway,” Dean had quipped, trying not to seem as fidgety as he felt.

Dean had waited anxiously at one of the library tables while Sam showered. He still wasn’t sure exactly what he should say to Sam and the waiting was just making him more uneasy. The more he thought about showing the messages to Sam, the more he felt like he was going to be sick.

Finally, Sam found Dean in the library.

“So what’s up?” Sam asked.

Dean decided to just dive right in. “Jack showed me something from the books,” he said.

Sam grimaced sympathetically. “Sorry. He just has a lot of questions. It wasn’t about, um, y’know…”

Dean certainly did _not_ know what Sam was referring to. But his little brother’s discomfort was making him curious. He raised his eyebrows to signal for Sam to continue.

Sam frowned, then shook his head a little before finally saying, “I mean, he didn’t read another sex scene, did he?”

Dean practically lost his mind. He almost tipped his chair over from laughing so hard. He could just barely hear Sam’s protests over his own laughter.

“C’mon, Dean. It’s not that funny.”

But when Dean wiped the tears from his eyes, he saw the telltale smirk Sam was trying to hide.

“Okay, Sammy, I _definitely_ want you to tell me about how that conversation went.”

“Very funny,” Sam replied. He pulled out a chair to sit next to Dean. “What did you actually want to talk about?”

Dean’s mirth evaporated and he cleared his throat awkwardly. He righted himself in his chair and scooted closer to the table. He found himself absently tapping his fingers against the wood surface as he started talking.

“Right. So Jack is at a pretty dark part of the books. And he showed me something I didn’t actually know about.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, some of the stuff he’s brought up to me seems like a lifetime ago. I can barely remember some of it.”

“Okay, I get it. We’re old now,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “But that’s not what I mean. It wasn’t something I forgot. I just never knew. And I don’t think you ever knew about it either.”

“Alright then,” Sam said. “What is it?” He sounded about as nervous as Dean felt.

“Jack was showing me a part of the books when I was with the angels and you were… with Ruby.” Dean noticed Sam flinch a little at the mention of Ruby. “Well, I was with Zachariah and Cas. I guess there was a night when I called you and left a voicemail.”

Sam had been nodding slowly as Dean spoke and it occurred to Dean that Sam probably had a pretty good idea of which part of their story Jack had been reading recently.

“I remember it, Dean,” Sam said. His voice was almost a whisper.

“You remember what? The voicemail?”

Sam looked at Dean squarely. His eyes were wide and the tip of his nose was pink – sure signs he was trying not to cry. “Yes, Dean. I remember it,” Sam said. “But we really don’t need to talk about it.”

Dean frowned. “Wait, is this what you remember?” He took the iPad, scrolled to the altered voicemail message, and turned the screen to Sam.

_“Listen to me, you blood-sucking freak. Dad always said I’d either have to save you, or kill you. Well, I’m giving you fair warning. I’m done trying to save you. You’re a monster, Sam. A vampire. You’re not you anymore. And there’s no going back.”_

Sam read quietly for a moment and then nodded. Dean’s heart clenched. Sam remembered this and Dean had never known. All these years and Sam had thought that Dean gave up on him. Had that pushed Sam further away back then? Did Sam still think about it sometimes? Was this message always in the back of Sam’s mind – a reminder that Dean could possibly give up on him again?

“Sammy,” Dean said, ignoring how strained his voice sounded. “I didn’t say any of that.”

“What?” Sam looked at Dean again and there was so much pain in his eyes that Dean could barely stand it. Suddenly Sam was that 20-something year old kid again, all the fear of doing the wrong thing, all that uncertainty of his place with Dean. But the years had changed Sam – hardened him in some ways, softened him in others. The anger that had followed Sam around back then had been smoothed away. Now all that was left was the hurt when he looked at Dean.

“I didn’t say any of it. Jack thinks maybe Zach changed it. Maybe it was Ruby, I don’t know. But, Sam,” Dean tried to quiet his voice, realizing he had started talking with increasing volume, “I never woulda said that. I didn’t give up on you.”

“I don’t understand,” Sam said.

Dean took the iPad back from Sam, scrolled to the real message he had left, and handed it back. “This is the message I actually left that day.”

Sam looked confused, but he read the paragraph that Dean had indicated.

_“Hey. It’s me. Uh… Look, I’ll just get right to it. I’m still pissed and I owe you a serious beat-down. But… I shouldn’t have said what I said, y’know. I’m not dad. We’re brothers. We’re family. And, uh, no matter how bad it gets, that doesn’t change. Sammy, I’m sorry.”_

Still staring down at the iPad, Sam let out a choked sound and then quickly rubbed a hand down his face. He looked up at Dean with tear-filled eyes.

Knowing the right words to say in a given situation had never been Dean’s forte, but he felt a certain clarity in this moment. “I’ve always believed in you, Sammy.”

Dean had known as far back as he could remember that he would die for Sam. But when Sam’s expression shifted the way it did in response to Dean’s words, his gaze vulnerable and trusting and so incredibly _Sam -_ all at once the baby brother who had taken his first unsteady steps toward Dean and the man who had saved Dean’s life more times than he could count - Dean became almost terrifyingly aware of the fact that he would let the entire world burn for Sam.

“Yeah, Dean,” Sam said, voice cracking. “Yeah, I know.”

“Good,” Dean said. “I just, uh, I needed you to see this because I didn’t…” He let his voice trail off. He knew Sam understood.

Sam took in a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. “Dean, the kid I was then… I didn’t know. I had a lot of doubts. But everything’s so different now. We’re _us_ , y'know?” His gaze shifted and Dean followed it to find Sam looking at the amulet resting against his chest. “I don’t doubt like I used to.”

Dean nodded, barely trusting his voice to work as he said, “You and me.”

“You and me,” Sam repeated.

They sat in silence for awhile then. It was comfortable. They had always been good at sharing stillness.

Finally, Sam’s voice cut the quiet. “How did Jack take it when he read this?”

“It was hard for him,” Dean said. “I think the word ‘monster’ in the messed-up voicemail really got to him.”

Sam sighed quietly. “Part of me wishes he wasn’t reading these. Reading about the darkest parts of our - of _my_ \- past.” Sam paused for a moment before continuing. “But what is my story if not a redemption story? And I think those are healing. It might be good for Jack in the long run.”

Dean was overwhelmed with how proud he felt of Sam in that moment. But that pride in his little brother was very familiar to Dean, and he knew how to push past it without accidentally embarrassing himself. “You’re a giant frickin’ sap, Sammy,” he said.

Sam chuckled softly. “I’m gonna go talk to Jack.”

“Good idea.”

Sam stood and grabbed the iPad, heading toward Jack’s room. But he hesitated in the doorway of the library, turning to smile at Dean one more time.

Dean returned Sam’s smile, no longer caring about the embarrassment of showing his pride and affection on his face.


End file.
